Disclaimer: any canon characters and concepts obviously belong to JKR, Hope's Nest and any original characters however are mine

Warnings: mention of child abuse, slash, torture

Hope's Nest

Chapter 8

Snape felt his heart stop beating after receiving Draco's frantic fire call. For an agonizingly long moment time and thought stopped, then reality rushed mercilessly back in his mind, causing his heart to race in his chest and his thoughts to trip over each other.

His right hand wandered to the middle of his chest, where beneath several layers of black cloth laid the ancient talisman that would allow him to call for his godmother if the situation was too dire for mortals to help.

Quickly throwing a handful of floopowder into the fire, he flooed to "Hope's Nest"'s infirmary.

What he saw upon his arrival caused his heart to clench in real alarm. Nicodemus very skin was glowing like he didn't have blood but pure light flowing through his veins. Light that was dripping out of his eyes, ears and nose like real blood would.

There had only been one other time in Severus' life when he had felt such all consuming fear and it had been nearly the very same image that had caused it.

/flashback/

Severus hurried through the wasteland and rubble that not one hour ago had been a large manor and blooming gardens. Yes, the Dark Lord's latest hiding place had been a mocking paradise of peace and growth.

Now there was only burnt earth and ruined stone left, marks of a magical battle of epic proportions. What couldn't be seen but Severus knew, was that not only plants and stones had been burnt to ashes, but every single one of the Death Eaters as well.

He had witnessed how magical lightening and fire had come down from the heavens to punish and destroy, called there by a young man, barely eighteen years old, called not by spell or ritual but by the magic in Harry's very soul.

The magical outburst caused the elements to go crazy, earth bursting open, wind whipping in every direction, fire and lava crawling out of the open ground, rain hailing from above. Yet all that havoc had been restricted to the immediate area surrounding the Dark Lord's residence.

And as nothing from within that area had been able to reach out, no outward influence was allowed in, as Severus noticed when he repeatedly tried to enter, to get to his young companion and support him.

Despair was apparent on Severus usually stoically blank face when he couldn't find any signs of life. He refused to give up hope though. Harry couldn't be dead wasn't allowed to be dead. Tears gathered in Severus' onyx eyes, tears he wouldn't shed till he had turned every stone in his search for the young man he had come to love like a son.

Through the haze of his watery sight he noticed a pulsing red-violet fire at the very centre of destruction. Cautiously he approached the fire, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image his eyes perceived.

Lying on the ground was Harry Potter, his body convulsing, violet fire and red lightning surging in and out of his skin, his mouth, his nose, his ears and eyes. Blood flowed out of numeral wounds, blood that glowed violet-red and glowed brighter with every passing second.

Severus reached out to gather Harry in his arms, but his hands met with an invisible barrier, the very same barrier that prevented his entrance to the battleground before.

Helplessly he watched as Harry's black hair turned into a blinding white and his blood changed to light.

Nearly overcome with despair Severus fell to his knees, pained by his inability to help. There was a deep, agonizing hurt in his chest and his hand clutched at the place where his heart would be if he had one. His hand encountered something hard and warm under the cloth.

With shaking hands he reached under his robes, grasping warm metal. Slowly he pulled it out. It was a warm circular piece of metal, engraved with the crest of the House of Stormcrow.

Hope exploded in Severus' heart at the crest's sight. Quickly he cut his hand with a sharp splinter of glass and let three drops of his blood drop onto the amulet.

It was obvious that he couldn't help Harry, but he could call someone who could.

/end flashback/

Curious despite his worry about Nicodemus Draco observed how his godfather pulled out an amulet from beneath his clothes, cut his hand with a small knife and let blood drop onto the amulet.

The amulet started to glow in a bright yellow light, a light that grew until it took the shape of a small human. Then a bright flash forced him to close his eyes.

When Draco opened his eyes again the light had vanished, leaving behind a small woman standing in the middle of the infirmary who radiated power in the same way Nicodemus did.

She was not much taller than a twelve years old child and yet her very presence demanded respect. Long bronze hair was freely flowing down her back, setting a nice accent to the deep blue of her dress.

Her dark blue eyes quickly took in the room's occupants before coming to rest on Nicodemus slumped form.

An angry frown marred her young, heart shaped face, green lightning flashing in her eyes . With three quick steps she was next to Nicodemus.

Two small white hands gently came to rest on his forehead and heart. Green light began to emit from her hands and seeped into Nicodemus' body, forcing red-violet flames back into his soul.

The flow of light/blood stopped and Nicodemus' breathing was deep and even again.

The hands left their places. The right one gestured at the nearest bed, causing its blanket to fold open. The left one gestured at Nicodemus, causing his body to float onto that bad, the blanket automatically covering him.

Then the strange woman set down on a chair next to Nicodemus' bed and gently stroked his wild white hair.

"You stupid, stupid boy. How often have I told you to rest, less you lose control of your magic?" she whispered, her voice as deep and silky as Severus'.

Then her sharp eyes rose to meet exhausted onyx. "Severus, my dear boy, you look tired. No wonder he doesn't follow your orders to rest, he never was one to follow a hypocrite."

A tired smile stole onto Severus' face, his relief at her presence obvious. "I do occasionally rest, Milady. It is only my worry about your charge that leaves me weary and tired."

"And as usual you have an excuse for neglecting your own health and well being. I think this time I will stay here and ensure that you will follow my orders to rest myself. Now be so nice as to introduce me to the young man over there that is going to catch flies if he doesn't close his mouth."

Startled Draco forced his mouth to close. This seemingly young woman was chastising his godfather as if he were a disobedient child and not several years her elder.

Sighing at the prospect of his godmother's prolonged stay, Severus gestured Draco to come nearer. "Milady, may I introduce Draco Malfoy, my godson. Draco, may I introduce Duchess Noctifer Aurelia Stormcrow, Head of the House of Stormcrow and Keeper of the Line of Old, my godmother."

Draco's eyes grew impossibly large, his pupils so dilated that there was only a sliver of silver visible. Remembering his manners, Draco bowed and said: "I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Milady. You look charming."

A cat-like smile curled the duchess's lips. "My, what a well mannered and silver tongued child you are. It is apparent that you didn't spend much time in my Severus' presence."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Severus is many things, but well mannered he is not. Tell me about you, young Malfoy. How is it that you are here? Nicos didn't mention any new co-workers at his last visit."

"I do not work here, Milady. Severus told me of the latest emergency at "Hope's Nest" and I came here to offer my help. One of the orphans told me that Mr.Stormcrow was in need of help, so I notified Severus of his condition." Draco couldn't prevent his eyes from worriedly looking at Nicodemus' sleeping form.

The duchess noticed the direction his looks took and her smile grew even wider, true delight shining in her eyes.

"Do not worry, he is only sleeping. Come morning he will be fit again."

Ron Weasley sighed deeply as he noticed the determined glint in his wife's eyes. He had hoped to have a quiet and relaxing breakfast as was his tradition on Saturday mornings, before going to the ministry where he would have to face the piling up problems in the Foreign Office.

Yet one glance at his wife and he'd known for sure, that there would be no quiet anything till she'd had her way.

Putting down the Daily Prophet he looked into his wife's brown eyes and asked: "What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione angrily put down her fork and replied: "I understand that you cannot stop the portkeys once they are activated, but, Merlin, surely you can prevent those monsters to get them into their grubby clutches. Or at least prevent "Hope's Nest" from creating any more!"

"Mione, dear, I don't think you can understand this one."

Seeing how his wife prepared to rip him verbally to shreds, he hurriedly explained: "You are muggleborn, dear, so naturally there are some Wizarding laws you are not able to understand because you aren't aware of their cultural origin.

The creator of those troublesome portkeys is none other than Nicodemus Stormcrow. He is of Old Blood, therefore only has to keep to the Old Laws. Even if he should break one of those he wouldn't be under our jurisdiction but that of the Council of Avalon.

The portkeys he creates aren't your normal portkeys, but amulets with the crest of Stormcrow. Every person wearing the crest of Stormcrow is under the jurisdiction and protection of the House of Stormcrow, therefore untouchable for us.

The amulets are charmed so that only the specified persons can touch and activate them safely. To even touch an amulet with the crest of an Old Line without permission is punishable by death, Hermione.

So, you see, there really is no way to stop those portkey troubles. It is out of our jurisdiction and every infringement would have dire consequences. You do not go around pissing off the Old Lines; you cannot even imagine the power they hold, the destruction they could unleash."

He could see that his wife was still upset and angry, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Where do they take the right from to interfere with our laws? We only look to it that those dark children cannot wreck the havoc their predecessors did. I was there, Ron. With my own eyes I witnessed what those children were able and willing to do.

I had to watch as they cast Imperio on my father and forced him to take a kitchen knife, forced him to cut off my mother's fingers one by one. I had to watch as a thirteen years old Slytherin, a student I had seen many times in Hogwart's Great Hall, cast one dark curse after the other on my mother, till her heart gave out and her mangled body was barely recognizable as human anymore.

I had to watch as my father was then forced to rape his dead wife's body, tears running down his face, his eyes as lifeless as those of my mother. After a short discussion what would be more painful for my father, they decided to leave him, alive and knowing what he did.

They looked like innocent children, none of them older than fifteen years. Because of them I lost both my parents in one night, my mother to death and my father to the horrors of his own mind.

No, I know what kind of masks those monsters wear; I won't be taken in by their young faces anymore.

We have done everything we could to make our people aware of the deceit and now one delusional pureblood destroys all our efforts, undermines our authority and jurisdiction!"

Tears of grief and anger ran down her cheeks and Ron quickly stood up to pull her into an embrace. The violent loss of her parents was a wound his wife refused to let heal. She had sworn to never forget that monsters came with the faces of children, too.

TBC

This chapter was harder to write than I'd thought, so please tell me what you liked/disliked. Thanks.